Showing posts with label Netherlands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Netherlands. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 September 2025

EU citizenship to get “thicker”: a case note on a public hearing

 



Jeremy Bierbach: lawyer, Franssen Advocaten; associate, Amsterdam Centre for European Law and Governance

Photo credit: Cedric Puisney, via Wikimedia Commons


Introduction

 

In Eric Stein’s groundbreaking 1981 article on the then-Court of Justice of the European Communities, “Lawyers, Judges, and the Making of a Transnational Constitution”,[1] he wrote:

 

Tucked away in the fairyland Duchy of Luxembourg and blessed, until recently, with benign neglect by the powers that be and the mass media, the Court of Justice of the European Communities has fashioned a constitutional framework for a federal-type structure in Europe.

 

But the Court is now consciously stepping out from its traditional hermitage to give greater exposure to its role in upholding the rule of law in the European Union, at a moment in time when courts in many legal systems are increasingly being called on to rule on the permissibility of governments’ attempts to limit citizens’ rights. 

 

On 25 March 2025, a remarkable hearing took place before the Grand Chamber of the Court of Justice of the European Union. That I can even write about it is thanks to the Court’s introduction of a video streaming service, as of 26 April 2022.[2] While hearings involving oral pleadings before the Grand Chamber are not streamed live, they are made available with a delay (starting later on the same day), and remain available to view for an entire month after the hearing (as of 1 October 2024).[3] The streaming service has ingeniously patched audio streams of all of the languages of the EU over the video— or at least all of the languages for which interpretations are available, including the language of the case, just as if the viewer is sitting in the courtroom and turning the dial to select the audio for her or his earpiece. The Court’s most recent expansion of the streaming service was based on a conscious decision, with the imprimatur of the Council,[4] to increase the transparency of the Court’s workings and make the content of hearings, not just the Court’s own publications, available for academic analysis. 

 

The preliminary reference in Safi: background

 

I will hereby present the most interesting points that I transcribed from the hearing while it was available.[5]The language of this case, named Safi (a pseudonym for the plaintiff), was Dutch, because it concerned a preliminary reference from a district court in the Netherlands. At stake is the proper interpretation of Article 20 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU), which (with relatively minor differences from the current formulation) had been introduced as Article 17 of the EC Treaty with the Treaty of Maastricht founding the European Union in 1993 (current formulation below) :

 

1.   Citizenship of the Union is hereby established. Every person holding the nationality of a Member State shall be a citizen of the Union. Citizenship of the Union shall be additional to and not replace national citizenship.

 

2.   Citizens of the Union shall enjoy the rights and be subject to the duties provided for in the Treaties. They shall have, inter alia:

 

(a)

the right to move and reside freely within the territory of the Member States;

 

(b)

the right to vote and to stand as candidates in elections to the European Parliament and in municipal elections in their Member State of residence, under the same conditions as nationals of that State;

 

(c)

the right to enjoy, in the territory of a third country in which the Member State of which they are nationals is not represented, the protection of the diplomatic and consular authorities of any Member State on the same conditions as the nationals of that State;

 

(d)

the right to petition the European Parliament, to apply to the European Ombudsman, and to address the institutions and advisory bodies of the Union in any of the Treaty languages and to obtain a reply in the same language.

 

These rights shall be exercised in accordance with the conditions and limits defined by the Treaties and by the measures adopted thereunder.

 

It is clear from the content of the streamed hearing in Safi (in which the Conclusion of Advocate-General Ćapeta will be issued on 4 September 2025, and the Court’s judgment can be expected sometime around the beginning of 2026), that Safi will be a very momentous judgment on Article 20, which can be said to represent the most idealistic norm of what EU citizenship is destined[6] to be. 

 

Safi will be the latest judgment in a saga on rights of residence for third-country national parents of young EU citizens (in those young EU citizens’ own member states of nationality), based on Article 20, that began with Ruiz Zambrano,[7] then continued with Rendón Martin,[8] and most recently the judgments on preliminary references from Dutch courts Chavez-Vilchez,[9] E.K.[10] (as a ruling on whether an Art. 20 right of residence is ‘temporary’ in the sense of Art. 3(2)(e) of the Long-Term Resident Directive, 2003/109) and X. v.Staatssecretaris van Justitie en Veiligheid (also known as Mère thaïlandaise d’un enfant mineur néerlandais).[11] 

 

The reason for the prominence of preliminary references from Dutch courts is that the Dutch government has consistently sought out the innermost boundaries of as stingy as possible an implementation of the Court’s case law on Art. 20. After Ruiz Zambrano, in which the third-country national father of a young Belgian child (whose mother was also a third-country national) was deemed to have a right of residence in Belgium based on Art. 20, the Dutch government considered that third-country national parents of young Dutch children would only have a right of residence if the other (inevitably Dutch national) parent was dead or otherwise incapacitated to care for the child alone. The Court put paid to that interpretation in Chavez-Vilchez, in which it ruled that denial of a right of residence to the third-country national parent, in cases where the Dutch parent was theoretically capable of caring for the child alone, but where the child was also dependent on the third-country national parent, would also mean that the child “be compelled to leave the territory of the European Union as a whole and thereby deprived of the genuine enjoyment of the substance of the rights conferred on him by” Art. 20, taking into consideration Art. 24(2) of the Charter of Fundamental Rights, the rights of the child.

 

The Court’s judgment in Mère thaïlandaise, in turn, was spurred by a preliminary reference on the Dutch government’s claim that the doctrine did not apply when the child (who in this case lived in Thailand with his grandmother) did not already reside in the Netherlands, or even in the EU. In this case, as well, the Court was compelled to complete the rather obvious syllogism that the right not to be compelled to leave the territory also implied a right not to be effectively denied access to the territory of the European Union by not be ensured of accompaniment by a third-country national parent on whom the child is dependent, and also further ruled on the significance of Art. 24(2) Charter.[12]

 

The preliminary reference in Safi was engendered by the Dutch government’s latest attempt to apply the Court’s case law as literally as possible. Ms. Safi (the Court’s pseudonym for the plaintiff) is the Moroccan mother of a young Dutch child, claiming a right of residence in the Netherlands, together with the child and her Dutch husband, based on Art. 20. However, she is in the possession of a permanent residence permit in Spain. Therefore, the Dutch government claims, her child would not in fact be compelled to leave the territory of the European Union as a whole; the child and his father can make use of Art. 7 of Directive 2004/38 (based on their right of freedom of movement, Art. 21(1) TFEU) to move to Spain, where the family could be intact.

 

Ms. Safi claims, on the other hand, that this would be anything but in the interests of the child: her son has language and learning disabilities and is currently receiving special education in his Dutch school. To be forced to go to a Spanish primary school in a completely new language would hinder his development even more. Moreover, her husband is unable to work and lives on a disability benefit, so he would be unlikely to be able to legally reside in Spain as a ‘worker’ on the basis of Art. 7 Directive.

 

The hearing

 

The Danish agent at the Court, as the representative of the only other member state to intervene, expresses support for the Dutch government’s standpoint. But the Dutch agent at the Court, responding to these arguments at the hearing, gives a rather hapless impression. The viewer would suspect that the baseline intransigence of all of the last five Dutch governments, when it comes to an unwillingness to generously interpret Art. 20 TFEU, is now amplified by the fact that the Dutch agent is being instructed by a civil servant (seated next to him) who is presumably representing the defendant, the Minister of Asylum and Migration, at the time Marjolein Faber-van de Klashorst of Geert Wilders’ hard-right Freedom Party (PVV).[13]

 

The agent appears to be unable or unwilling to respond to the A-G’s and the judges’ questions with compelling arguments based on EU law and the Court’s own case-law. In particular, his repeated insistence that the Dutch government’s decision to deny Ms. Safi’s application was in conformity with EU law because it ensured that the right to family life, based on Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights, would not be infringed (because the family could be intact in Spain), seems to arouse barely concealed irritation on the part of the Advocate-General when she is questioning him.  She goes on to ask, as to the substance of Art. 20 as established in Ruiz Zambrano (at 1h23m), why the child’s Art. 20 rights would be violated if he was compelled to move to Morocco, in the Dutch government’s view, but not if he was compelled to move to Spain. The Dutch agent can only speculate, in response (1h26m), that it might be more difficult for the child to move back to the Netherlands from Morocco in the future than it would be for the child to make use of freedom of movement to move back from Spain to the Netherlands or another member state. 

 

Turning to the Commission, the A-G asks, among other things (1h27m): “Article 20... says that the citizens of the Union shall enjoy the right to move and reside within the territory of the member states. Do you think that this might have any influence in this case? I mean, is the minor who is forced to move to another member state because his mom is not given the derived right of residence residing or moving "freely"?”

 

The agent of the Commission responds (1h28m, speaking Dutch, my transcription of the English interpreter): “If the child is forced to move to a member state where the child cannot live in a way that's compatible with his best interests and the right to family life, then that of course is not "free movement".”

 

Even more revealing were the questions and comments of the judges, first of all Vice-President Von Danwitz directly asking the agent of the Dutch government (speaking in French, my transcription of the English interpreter, 1h31m): “Now, we're getting the impression somewhat, or I'm afraid that I could get the impression, that here what is trying to be done is to take something that in my mother tongue is called "schwarzen Peter spielen". In other words, you want to avoid the social burden by passing the buck in relation to this particular family. Now, just before, you said that the Dutch authorities had concluded that in fact, in Spain, the family could live autonomously. They would be able to provide for their own subsistence. But if the Netherlands were to grant a right of residence to the mother of the child concerned, the mother would be able to start working again and could potentially allow the family to make ends meet. So the same trajectory that you suggest would be possible in Spain. So why doesn't such an option exist in the Netherlands?”

 

President Lenaerts immediately adds the clarification (speaking in Dutch, 1h34m, my translation): “May I be more blunt? The Dutch father now lives from a social benefit in the Netherlands. If the family is deported to Spain, then that benefit would no longer be paid out. That might create the impression that the Netherlands is dumping its social burden on another member state.”


Later on (1h41m), Judge Jürimäe, visibly irritated at an evasive answer provided by the agent of the Dutch government: 'Yes, but we just established that this is about the child and his Article 20 [Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union] rights, in conjunction with the Charter, and you [the Netherlands] are avoiding that issue in these proceedings. I'm talking about the rights of the child.'

Later on (1h43m): Judge Jääskinen: “Why are we having this case here? Does the Netherlands legislation include residence permits for the family members of Dutch citizens? ... I think in many member states you normally give a residence permit to the spouse or family member of a citizen, but in your member state, you have something more complicated.”

 

Later on (1h51m), in response to the agent of the Dutch government once more insisting, in response to the judge’s questions, that it can be assumed that the family would be able to be go together to Spain and there would thereby be no violation of art. 20 TFEU, Jääskinen says: “Doesn't this then mean, I refer to the ‘schwarzer Peter’ argument, that actually you are making an implied expulsion of your own citizens, you are counting that your own citizens are forced to leave because of the family circumstances?” 

 

President Lenaerts clarifies in Dutch (my own translation, improving on the English interpreter): “Judge Jääskinen’s question is in relation to what the Netherlands has pointed out: the Netherlands is expecting two of its own nationals, the father and the son, to leave the Netherlands, their own country of nationality, all to get rid of the mother.” 

 

Analysis

 

The Advocate-General’s Conclusion on 4 September, judging from the hearing, promises to be interesting. The questions that she can be expected to come to grips with are:

 

Whether an EU citizen (any EU citizen) can effectively be compelled to make use of freedom of movement based on Art. 21(1) from her or his own member state of nationality to a host member state, or if Art. 20 TFEU prohibits this. Then the following question would be when such a prohibition would be triggered:

 

-          with regard to young EU citizen children, when the rights of the child based on Art. 24(2) Charter are not taken into account; or

-          with regard to adult EU citizens, if the citizen in question is dependent on social assistance in his or her home member state and is unlikely to be able to satisfy the conditions set in Art. 7 Directive 2004/38 of being a worker, being self-employed or having sufficient resources.

 

As to the last subquestion: Vice President Von Danwitz’s question and President Lenaerts’s qualification of it were in fact quite revealing of this angle, which had probably not been envisaged by the parties in their own submissions. But their questions possibly foreshadowed the Court’s judgment Commission v. Malta,[14] which was handed down less than two months later, on 29 April 2025. In that judgment, the Court ruled that Malta’s citizenship by investment programme, by which the nationality of Malta, and therefore also EU citizenship, could be obtained in exchange for a nearly negligible period of actual residence and a substantial investment, violated Art. 20 TFEU and Art. 4(3) TEU, the principle of sincere cooperation. 

 

The Court thereby ruled that Art. 20 TFEU was not merely a Treaty right that is of interest for individuals, but that it also has a dimension relating to the interests of the member states severally, considering that the grant of nationality in one member state gives the holder access to freedom of movement in the entire Union. If one member state grants its nationality too easily, therefore, the movement of those newly minted EU citizens could be seen as noxious to the other member states.[15]  Critics of the judgment claimed that this meant that EU citizenship was being made to be “thicker”, in terms of setting substantive conditions for the grant of member state nationality.[16]

 

But it seems that the Court could rule in a similar vein that it is equally in violation of the principle of sincere cooperation for a member state to compel the movement of its own nationals to a host member state where they will potentially become a burden; therefore Art. 20 TFEU militates in favour of a right to remain in one’s own member state, where access to social assistance is unlimited.

 

It is the individual interests of the Union citizen that will be most augmented by the judgment on Art. 20 TFEU that is to be expected. It is perhaps not accidental that Ms. Safi and her child are (Dutch-) Moroccan, members of a heavily stigmatized minority in Dutch society. Geert Wilders, the leader and sole member of the PVV party that the defendant minister of the Dutch government served on behalf of, was in fact convicted on hate-speech charges in 2014 for making a promise to deport people (citizens and non-citizens alike) from Moroccan backgrounds.[17] In light of the final quote from President Lenaerts cited above, it certainly looks like the minister’s interpretation of EU law aimed to serve that very goal. Therefore, Art. 20 TFEU could serve as a key backstop against member states attempting to ‘alienize’ and effectively deport their own nationals; indeed providing a ‘thickness’ in terms of basic civil rights that EU citizens’ own member states’ legal systems may be lacking.

 


[1] E. Stein, ‘Lawyers, Judges, and the Making of a Transnational Constitution’ (1981) 75 The American Journal of International Law1–27.

[2] https://eucrim.eu/news/new-streaming-service-at-cjeu-website/#:~:text=Since%2026%20April%202022%2C%20citizens,the%20delivery%20of%20the%20judgments.https://www.politico.eu/article/eus-top-court-embraces-digital-age-with-streaming-service/

[3] President of the Court Koen Lenaerts, in an interview with Prof. Katerina Linos, at 1h25mhttps://podcasts.apple.com/nl/podcast/cjeu-episode-2-european-union-court-of-justice/id1592768751?i=1000675376975&l=en-GB

[4] In the words of President Lenaerts himself, supra n. 3

[5] I previously presented them on 10 May 2025 at the conference of the European Union Studies Association, Panel 10L, in Philadelphia.

[6] ECJ Rudy Grzelczyk v Centre public d’aide sociale d’Ottignies-Louvain-la-Neuve (2001), vol. C-184/99. “Union citizenship is destined to be the fundamental status of nationals of the Member States, enabling those who find themselves in the same situation to enjoy the same treatment in law irrespective of their nationality, subject to such exceptions as are expressly provided for.”, par. 31.

[7] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?num=C-34/09

[8] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?language=en&jur=C,T,F&num=c-165/14

[9] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?language=nl&num=C-133/15

[10] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?num=C-624/20

[11] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/liste.jsf?num=C-459/20

[12] For a critical note, however, see Harvey D. The Best Interests of the Child Need Not Necessarily be a Primary Consideration: ECJ 22 June 2023, Case C-459/20, X v Staatssecretaris van Justitie en Veiligheid (Mère thaïlandaise d’un enfant mineur néerlandais). European Constitutional Law Review. 2024;20(4):569-592. doi:10.1017/S1574019624000397 https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/european-constitutional-law-review/article/best-interests-of-the-child-need-not-necessarily-be-a-primary-consideration/B0A6F9C4D7496110F50E2D9357967914?utm_campaign=shareaholic&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=bookmark

[13] The PVV withdrew all its ministers from government on 3 June 2025 over its insistence that the other coalition parties were not doing enough to put an immediate stop to asylum-related migration to the Netherlands, causing the government to collapse and go into caretaker mode; new elections for the lower house of Parliament will be held on 29 October 2025.

[14] https://curia.europa.eu/juris/documents.jsf?num=C-181/23

[15] I am consciously referencing the considerations of James Madison, Federalist 42, in favor of what became the unified rules for naturalization in the United States.

[16] https://verfassungsblog.de/eu-citizenships-new-essentialism/

[17] https://www.economist.com/europe/2025/08/28/after-a-year-of-chaos-the-dutch-hope-to-return-to-real-issues?giftId=0a5ba70a-777c-4d03-95b8-5c73bfa185a0&utm_campaign=gifted_article


Friday, 11 July 2025

A Dutch dangerous experiment in criminalizing compassion: How a parliamentary "slip-up" could create Europe's harshest migration law

 



Huub Verbaten, Research Fellow at the Clingendael Institute

Photo credit: Markus Bernet, via Wikimedia commons

On the evening of July 3, 2025, as Dutch parliamentarians prepared to vote on what could become some of Europe's most restrictive asylum laws, NSC MP Diederik Boomsma posed a question that cut to the heart of a dangerous policy experiment. Would offering a "bowl of soup" to someone without legal papers now be a criminal offense?

The question wasn't rhetorical. Just days earlier, a last-minute amendment by Geert Wilders' far-right PVV had passed through what opposition parties later called a "slip-up" in parliamentary procedure. The amendment didn't just criminalize being undocumented in the Netherland, it also made helping undocumented people a punishable offense. Suddenly, the simple act of human kindness that Boomsma described could land someone in jail.

Justice Minister David van Weel's initial response was telling: "Illegal is illegal. The law, is the law." But when pressed again later that evening, he backtracked, saying the criminalization clause wouldn't take immediate effect and would need assessment by the Council of State. The next day, Deputy Minister Thierry Aartsen offered a more pointed critique: "There should be no soup police."

This exchange encapsulates something profound about the moment we're witnessing in European migration policy. What began as political theater, a way for parties to signal toughness on immigration, has evolved into something more dangerous: the systematic criminalization of both vulnerability and compassion. The Netherlands, long seen as a pragmatic, tolerant society, is conducting an experiment in governance through criminalization that could reshape not just migration policy, but the very nature of civil society.

The mechanics of a political accident

To understand how the Netherlands arrived at this point, you need to understand the chaotic final days of the parliamentary session that ended July 3, 2025. What unfolded was less deliberate policymaking than political accident, resulting in a series of miscalculations and missed opportunities that produced legislation even its supporters seemed uncomfortable defending.

The story begins with the collapse of the four-party coalition government just one month earlier. Migration had been the breaking point. Geert Wilders, whose PVV party led the coalition, pulled the plug in June, claiming his partners were moving too slowly on promised migration restrictions. The irony was palpable: Wilders destroyed his own government over the very issue he'd finally gained power to address.

The criminalization amendment emerged from this toxic environment. Originally, the asylum legislation focused on reducing temporary residency permits from five to three years, suspending new permanent residency permits, and restricting family reunification.

These were significant changes, but they operated within existing legal frameworks. The PVV amendment changed everything. When the vote came on July 3, the numbers tell the story of a deeply divided parliament. The main asylum bill passed 95 to 55 MP votes, a comfortable margin that reflected broad support for tighter restrictions. But the criminalization amendment passed much more narrowly, and only because several opposition MPs were absent during the crucial vote. It was, in the words of multiple observers, a "slip-up" that produced one of Europe's harshest migration laws.

The Christian Democrats, who had initially supported the broader asylum package, immediately withdrew their backing once the criminalization clause was added. This wasn't careful policymaking. It was political improvisation under pressure, with consequences that extend far beyond the immediate parliamentary arithmetic.

The evidence against criminalization

The Dutch experiment in criminalizing illegal residence isn't happening in a vacuum. Other European countries have tried similar approaches, and the results offer a sobering preview of what the Netherlands can expect. The evidence is clear (see here and here): criminalization doesn't reduce irregular migration, but it does create a host of new problems.

Start with the basic premise underlying the Dutch legislation that making illegal residence a crime will deter people from coming or staying. Research (here and here) from the Netherlands' own Research and Documentation Centre (WODC) has repeatedly debunked the assumption that illegality and criminality go hand in hand. A recent German study reached similar conclusions, finding no evidence that immigration increases crime rates. Migrants are primarily driven by safety, prospects, and family, not by policy measures. The deterrence theory, appealing as it might sound to politicians, simply doesn't hold up under scrutiny.

The international evidence is even more damning. Belgium offers perhaps the most instructive comparison. Since 1980 - 45 years ago - Belgium has maintained criminal penalties for illegal residence, with fines up to 200 euros and prison sentences up to three months. The result? Belgium currently hosts an estimated 112,000 undocumented residents (see here and here), more than double the highest estimates for the Netherlands (23,000 to 58,000). If criminalization were an effective deterrent, Belgium should have far fewer undocumented residents, not far more.

Germany has taken a different approach that highlights the contradictions in criminalization strategies. Through its Duldung (toleration) system, Germany provides temporary legal status to people who cannot be deported. Between 2015 and 2020, Germany issued nearly 660,000 residence permits to people who had previously been living illegally in the country. Rather than criminalizing these individuals, Germany regularized their status, reducing the undocumented population from 300,000 in 2022 to 240,000 in 2023.

Italy provides the starkest example of criminalization's failures. Since 1998, Italy has maintained criminal penalties for illegal residence, with fines reaching 10,000 euros and mandatory deportation orders. Yet Italian courts have repeatedly rejected the harshest applications of these laws (see here and here). In 2023, it was determined that a protection permit (protezione speciale) may not be automatically denied without an individual assessment. Meanwhile, the informal economy grew, and with it, the vulnerability of undocumented individuals. Since 2020, the number of detected irregular migrants has increased nearly tenfold, from fewer than 23,000 to more than 195,000 in 2023 (see here and here). The paradox is stark: the stricter the policy, the larger the population it fails to control.

What is criminalized in one European country can offer protection in another. While the Netherlands seeks to criminalize illegal stay, countries like Italy and Germany have humanitarian exceptions: protezione speciale, Duldung. The result? Two people in exactly the same situation can face completely different outcomes, purely depending on where they are.

These differences are not minor legal technicalities because they touch on something fundamental: the fairness of European migration policy. How do you explain that someone in Germany might receive a Duldung for policy-related or personal reasons, while that same person would be considered a criminal in the Netherlands?

Systems under breaking point

The Dutch criminalization experiment arrives at a particularly unfortunate moment: when the country's justice system is already stretched beyond capacity. The Netherlands' justice system is currently in crisis. Prison overcrowding has become so severe that the government recently implemented early release programs for convicted criminals to free up cell space. Into this strained system, the criminalization amendment would inject thousands of new cases annually.

The Association of Dutch Municipalities (VNG) has been particularly vocal about the implementation challenges. In their assessment, the legislation creates an impossible situation: municipalities are legally required to provide basic services to vulnerable populations, but the new law would criminalize providing those very services. As VNG chairperson Sharon Dijksma put it, "Municipalities will soon have to break one law in order to comply with another law."

Police leadership opposes Minister Van Weel’s legislation (see here and here): 'Not every illegal alien is a nuisance' and 'When providing assistance to someone who is in the country illegally, the police would actually be in violation. This is an undesirable situation.'

The system strain isn't limited to formal institutions. Civil society organizations that have provided humanitarian assistance for decades suddenly find themselves in legal jeopardy. Churches offering sanctuary, NGOs providing food and shelter, even individual citizens helping neighbors could face criminal prosecution.

The logic of political theatre

If criminalization doesn't work as policy, why does it persist as politics? The answer reveals something uncomfortable about contemporary democratic governance: the gap between what sounds effective and what actually works has become a chasm that politicians exploit rather than bridge.

The Dutch criminalization amendment serves primarily as what political scientists call "symbolic legislation”, laws designed more to send messages than to solve problems. The message is clear: we take illegal immigration seriously enough to make it a crime. The audience isn't primarily migrants, who research shows are rarely deterred by such policies. The audience is voters who want to see their representatives "doing something" about immigration.

This dynamic isn't new in Dutch politics. The current proposal represents the third major attempt to criminalize illegal residence in the past two decades. Each time, the same pattern emerges: political pressure builds for "tough" action on migration, criminalization is proposed as a solution, experts warn about practical problems and limited effectiveness, and the proposal either dies or gets watered down. The current version broke this cycle not because the underlying problems were solved, but because political circumstances aligned to push it through despite expert opposition.

The criminalization approach also serves another political function: it shifts responsibility away from government failure. If the Netherlands cannot effectively manage migration through existing legal and administrative tools, criminalizing the problem makes it someone else's responsibility e.g. police, prosecutors, judges. When these institutions inevitably struggle with implementation, politicians can blame them for being "soft" rather than acknowledging the inadequacy of the policy itself.

When compassion becomes criminal

The most profound impact of the Dutch criminalization experiment may not be on migration patterns, which research suggests will remain largely unchanged, but on the fabric of civil society itself. When basic human compassion becomes potentially criminal, the effects ripple far beyond the immediate targets of the legislation.

Consider the position of healthcare providers who regularly treat undocumented patients. Under the new legislation, providing medical care to someone without legal status could potentially constitute "assistance" to illegal residence. The law contains no explicit medical exemption, leaving healthcare providers in an impossible position: violate their professional oath to "do no harm," or risk criminal prosecution for helping vulnerable patients.

The Dutch legislation creates what legal scholars call "overcriminalization", the expansion of criminal law into areas traditionally governed by administrative procedures or moral obligations. When criminal penalties attach to activities that most people consider morally neutral or even praiseworthy, the law loses legitimacy and becomes harder to enforce fairly.

The European Court of Justice has recognized this complexity in a series of recent rulings that establish minimum standards for human dignity even in restrictive migration regimes. The Jawo decision established that Dublin transfers cannot leave asylum seekers destitute. Haqbin confirmed that even problematic asylum seekers retain rights to basic accommodation. The ruling in Changu underlines that Member States may be strict in their return policies, but they remain responsible for the basic needs of people who cannot (yet) be deported.

The Court recently ruled that illegal travel into EU by a third-country national with minors does not constitute a criminal offence when claiming international protection. Therefore, the Italian law contravenes EU law. These rulings reflect a fundamental principle: human dignity is not conditional on legal status.

The European Commission made a proposal at the end of 2023 for a new directive aimed at clarifying the approach to assisting with illegal residence in the EU. The Netherlands supports the proposal but at the same time emphasized as recently as March 2024 that humanitarian aid must not be criminalized. The Meijers Committee warns that the directive risks criminalizing humanitarian aid and urges the EU to amend vague provisions allowing Member States too much discretion in prosecutions.

An increasing number of aid workers have appeared in court across several Member States for assisting undocumented individuals. According to a recent report by the PICUM network, at least 142 people in Europe were prosecuted in 2024 for helping migrants, including 62 in Greece, 29 in Italy, 17 in Poland, and 17 in France.

The choice ahead

The Dutch criminalization experiment now moves to its final act. When the upper house reconvenes after the summer recess, senators will face a choice that extends far beyond migration policy. They will decide whether the Netherlands embraces governance through criminalization or returns to its tradition of pragmatic, evidence-based policymaking.

The vote is expected to be extremely close. The Christian Democrats, who withdrew support in the lower house over the criminalization amendment, hold enough seats in the upper chamber to block the legislation if they maintain their opposition. This means the fate of one of Europe's harshest migration laws may come down to a handful of votes from politicians who weren't even directly elected on this issue.

The choice facing Dutch senators reflects a broader tension in contemporary democracy between responsive governance and responsible governance. Responsive governance gives people what they want, even when what they want is based on incomplete information or emotional reactions. Responsible governance sometimes requires leaders to resist popular pressure in favor of policies that actually work.

The criminalization amendment represents responsive governance at its worst, a policy that sounds tough but creates more problems than it solves. Responsible governance would acknowledge the legitimate concerns about migration while pursuing solutions that actually address those concerns rather than simply expressing frustration about them.

What would responsible migration governance look like? It would start with honest assessment of what's actually possible. Most undocumented residents in the Netherlands cannot be deported, either because their countries of origin won't accept them or because deportation would violate international law. Criminalizing these people doesn't make deportation more feasible; it just makes their lives more precarious.

The question that began this analysis - whether offering a bowl of soup to someone without papers should be a crime - captures the essence of this choice. Societies that criminalize basic human compassion don't become more secure or more prosperous. They become less humane and ultimately less democratic.

The Netherlands still has time to choose a different path. The question is whether its democratic institutions are strong enough to take it.

Thursday, 5 June 2025

Integration as Exclusion: The Keren Case Revisited

 



Dr Sarah Ganty, LL.M. (Yale), Ph.D. (ULB); J.S.D. candidate, Yale Law School; F.N.R.S. Postdoctoral Fellow, UCLouvain; Research Visitor, Bonavero Institute of Human Rights (Oxford); Research Fellow, CEU Democracy Institute (Budapest); President of the YLS European Law Association


Photo: Raad van State (the referring court), via Wikimedia Commons

 

Last February, the Grand Chamber of the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) delivered its ruling in the Keren case. The Court upheld the possibility for Member States (MSs) to impose civic integration examinations on the beneficiaries of international protection but introduced important limitations regarding the modalities, costs and sanctions attached to such requirements. Many EU migration lawyers and scholars on social media welcomed the judgment. By placing some constraints on the design and implementation of integration tests, the Court curbed what had become genuinely abusive and exclusionary practices towards the beneficiaries of international protection.

 

Yet the broad endorsement of the Keren ruling among legal practitioners and scholars reflects a deeper and more troubling trend: the growing normalisation and depoliticisation of integration requirements imposed on third-country nationals. In Keren the Court effectively reconciled what appeared irreconcilable – construing the right to access of integration programmes under Article 34 of the Qualification Directive as potentially entailing integration obligations. Such a reading would likely have provoked significant concern thirty years ago, when civic integration tests were still regarded as peripheral or ideologically motivated proposals originating from the political fringes. Today, however, these measures have become entrenched and largely uncontroversial features of EU migration governance. Their underlying normative, legal, human and social implications are rarely scrutinised. Only their modalities are. Crucially, this shift has occurred in the absence of compelling evidence to support the efficacy or necessity of such obligations. On the contrary, research increasingly indicates that integration requirements – regardless their modalities – besides being ineffective, tend to discriminate and exclude, rather than include or empower, those subject to them.

 

Following a brief contextual overview of the evolution of integration requirements within the EU (Section 1), this commentary sets out the factual and legal background of the case, summarising the Opinion of Advocate General (AG) Medina and the reasoning of the Grand Chamber (Section 2). It then argues that the Court largely reiterates the principles previously articulated in its case law on civic integration duties, including under the framework of EU migration law and the EU–Turkey Association Agreement (Section 3). While this continuity may appear doctrinally consistent, I contend that Keren merited a different outcome irrespective of the newly adopted 2024 Qualification Regulation, which was not applicable to the case (Section 4). In particular, Article 34 of the Qualification Directive should have been interpreted more protectively to reject the imposition of integration obligations and examinations altogether. This is particularly significant in light of the increasing instrumentalisation of integration requirements as mechanisms of exclusion – tools deployed to target those who, in Bauman’s terms, are rendered ‘strangers’ by a legal and political order that marks them as insufficiently aligned with the dominant cultural and social norms (Section 5).

 

1.      The Civic Turn: Context

 

Over the past twenty years, integration obligations have become increasingly prevalent across EU Member States (see here and here), frequently functioning as preconditions for access to legal status and social rights. Their proliferation is commonly framed in the literature as indicative of a broader civic – or even ideological – turn in European migration governance.

 

Although integration has long been addressed at the European level through soft law instruments, the EU’s competence in migrant’s integration remains limited by the Treaty on the Functioning of the EU (TFEU) (Article 79(4)). Nevertheless, the concept has found its way into EU secondary legislation through the EU’s immigration policies. Since the early 2000s, integration has featured in instruments, such as the Family Reunification Directive and the Long-Term Residence Directive. These instruments reflect an ongoing tension between two competing models: integration through rights versus integration through duties.

 

While the original proposals for both directives reflected a rights-based logic – conceiving secure residence as a means to facilitate integration – this approach was increasingly contested by certain MSs, notably Austria, Germany and the Netherlands (see e.g., here). These states had already implemented integration tests at various stages of the migration legal journey and actively advocated for their incorporation into the EU legal framework. Consequently, the final versions of the directives permit MSs to condition access to family reunification and long-term resident status on compliance with integration requirements.

 

Simultaneously, national integration requirements began to multiply and extend beyond the scope of these directives. For instance, in countries such as Germany, the Netherlands and Denmark, such obligations were applied in the context of the EU–Turkey Association Agreement (and the additional Protocol and decision of the Association Council) despite this regime traditionally falling outside the scope of EU immigration law.

 

With regard to the integration of the beneficiaries of international protection, the EU possesses broader legislative competence under Article 78 TFEU. Nonetheless, legislative activity in this area has remained relatively limited, with integration matters primarily addressed in Article 34 of the Qualification Directive, which affirms a right to access integration programmes. Until recently, EU law did not explicitly authorise MSs to impose integration obligations on the beneficiaries of international protection – unlike in the field of general migration directives. Despite this, several MSs, including the Netherlands, have introduced such requirements, notably through examinations, following the granting of protection status. It was in this context that a preliminary reference was submitted to the Court in Keren, essentially asking whether such integration requirements are compatible with Article 34 of the Qualification Directive and if so, under what conditions.

 

2.      The Keren case

 

Keren arose from the previous version of the Dutch Wet Inburgering, which mandates civic integration for non-temporary residents, including the beneficiaries of international protection. This requirement includes passing exams in language and societal knowledge within three years, subject to a limited extension. Failure results in financial penalties and a repayment obligation for state loans provided to support compliance. In casu T.G., an Eritrean national granted asylum in the Netherlands, failed to pass the relevant exams within the allotted timeframe and was fined EUR 500 and ordered to repay a EUR 10,000 loan. Even after being granted an exemption based on demonstrated effort, these penalties remained. The Dutch Council of State referred preliminary questions to the CJEU, asking whether such measures align with Article 34 of Directive 2011/95/EU (the Qualification Directive), which guarantees access to integration programmes for the beneficiaries of international protection.

 

AG Medina found that Article 34 of the Qualification Directive only grants a right of access to integration programmes – implying ‘positive measures enabling refugees to integrate’ (§47). For the AG, this provision did not impose a corresponding obligation on the beneficiaries of international protection to participate in integration measures. Drawing on the principle of shared competence in EU law, he found that MSs retain discretion to determine whether participation in such programmes should be compulsory (§42). The Directive likewise does not preclude national legislation requiring the beneficiaries of international protection to undergo a civic integration examination. Nevertheless, MSs may not require refugees to attain a specific pass mark in such examinations as a condition or proof of integration. Moreover, Article 34 of the Qualification Directive precludes national legislation that imposes on refugees the obligation to bear excessive costs for participation in integration programmes, or conditions participation on passing an integration examination under the threat of financial sanctions, such as the obligation to repay a loan or pay a fine.

 

The CJEU largely accepted the AG’s approach, albeit following a different train of thought. Relying on a contextual and teleological interpretation of Article 34 – which concerns access to rights, the importance of integration measures, the expectation of long-term residence and the potential pathway to naturalisation – the Court found that ‘MSs enjoy a margin of discretion in deciding on the content of the integration programmes referred to in that article, as well as on the practical arrangements for the organisation of those programmes and the obligations that may be imposed on participants in that context’ (§ 62, emphasis added). In this way the Court effectively conflates the irreconcilable: the right to integration and the obligation to integrate.

 

On this basis, and in line with the AG, the Court held that national legislation requiring participation in integration programmes and successful completion of related examinations is compatible with Article 34, provided it is proportionate (§66) and takes into account the individual circumstances of each person through an individualised assessment (§§67–68). Differing from the AG on several points, the Court found that MSs may require refugees to achieve a pass mark in integration examinations, but the required level must remain elementary and proportionate to the goal of promoting integration (§73). Moreover, while the imposition of a fine for failure to pass the exam is not precluded, such penalties must not be automatic or systematic. They must be exceptional and based on objective evidence of a persistent and demonstrated lack of willingness to integrate (§74). Crucially, the Court held that Article 34 prohibits requiring the beneficiaries of international protection to bear the full cost of compulsory integration measures. Such measures should in principle be free of charge. Only beneficiaries with sufficient financial means may be required to contribute, and any such contribution must be reasonable (§§82–83).

 

3.      Limits of the limits set by the Court

 

The CJEU has long grappled with the legality of integration conditions. In European Parliament v. Council, the Court cautiously upheld the permissibility of such measures under the Family Reunification Directive, while emphasising compliance with fundamental rights.

 

Later, integration obligations featured prominently in the case law related to the EU–Turkey Association Agreement. Without rejecting the principle of integration requirements or examinations, the Court has consistently struck down national measures imposing such conditions on Turkish workers and their family members. These measures were found to breach the respective standstill clauses, as they introduced new, disproportionate restrictions. For instance, the Court struck down Danish rules requiring minors to demonstrate ‘sufficient ties’ to Denmark in Caner Genc, or spouses to prove stronger attachment to Denmark than to their country of origin in A. The imposition of language tests on Turkish workers sponsoring spouses in X or on the spouses themselves in Dogan was also deemed unlawful. A key concern in most of these cases has been the absence of individualised assessments.

 

This proportionality logic also informs the Court’s interpretation of EU secondary legislation – most notably the Family Reunification Directive and the Long-Term Residence Directive – both of which expressly allow MSs to impose integration ‘conditions’  or ‘measures’  as prerequisites for residence permits or visas. In rulings like K and A, C and A and P and S, the Court recalled the principle that integration conditions must serve the objectives of the directives – facilitating family life and supporting long-term integration. Civic knowledge and language acquisition, the Court argued, promote communication, social cohesion and access to employment and education. Hence, the Court concluded in the three cases – without offering further reasoning – that the requirement to pass an examination constitutes an appropriate means of achieving these objectives. However, the Court has consistently attached important caveats. It held that authorities must consider the efforts made by applicants, even if they ultimately fail the exam. Likewise, the implementation of integration measures must remain proportionate, including the scrutiny of the level of knowledge required, the accessibility of preparatory materials, the cost of registration and the imposition of fines. The Court has also highlighted the need to consider individual circumstances, such as age, illiteracy or educational background.

 

The Keren ruling builds on this existing case law, applying these principles mutatis mutandis to the beneficiaries of international protection. On its face, Keren aligns with the Court’s established approach: it limits disproportionate administrative sanctions while upholding the legitimacy of the integration obligations and examinations within the framework of the Qualification Directive. The judgment might even appear commendable for pushing back against the more punitive dimensions of national integration regimes.

 

But two critical concerns remain.

 

4.      Transforming a Right into Obligations

 

The Keren judgment raises a fundamental concern absent from other integration-related cases: the Court’s interpretation of Article 34 of the Qualification Directive, which stands out for its unique legal and normative framing. This provision, entitled ‘Access to integration facilities’, requires MSs to ensure access to integration programmes for the beneficiaries of international protection, with due regard to their specific needs.

 

Both the AG and the Court acknowledged that Article 34 establishes a right to access integration facilities. Logically, this should preclude the imposition of integration obligations, as rights by definition imply personal autonomy ‘as (part) authorship of one's life’. However, both concluded through distinct routes that the provision does not prevent such obligations.

 

The AG’s justification – that shared competence allows MSs to legislate in the absence of EU action – fails to account for the fact that Article 34 already expresses an exercised competence. Once the EU legislates a right, MSs should in principle not dilute it by imposing additional burdens. According to the AG’s logic, any right in a shared competence field could be mirrored by a corresponding obligation at national level, inverting the purpose of rights and leading to absurd, even unjust outcomes which are only partially contained by the proportionality principle.

 

The Court’s reasoning, to the extent that it is discernible, also fails to persuade. While it invokes the margin of discretion afforded to MSs, it remains entirely silent on how the imposition of mandatory integration exams can be reconciled with a provision that enshrines a right to access integration programmes. The normative shift is further compounded by the Court’s unacknowledged alignment (almost point-by-point) with Article 35 of the new Qualification Regulation, which explicitly allows integration obligations under certain conditions and will apply from July 2026. From a Rule of Law perspective, this implicit application of the new Article 35, which was not applicable to the case (and would not before 2026) is deeply problematic. The new Article 35 was not meant to clarify the current Article 34, but to replace and restrict it. Treating them as interchangeable – and in a non-explicit way – disregards both their legal and normative distinction and their temporal application.

 

Even accepting the legitimacy of integration obligations, it is striking that the Court never addresses the central question: whether integration can be more effectively achieved through voluntary participation – a consideration that any genuine proportionality test should require, especially if the Directive does not provide for compulsory integration. Nor does it examine whether such obligations, particularly exams, actually contribute to integration. As a matter of fact, the clues in evidence rather argue against integration requirements. Studies have shown that integration tests are often ineffective, legally misconstrued, misapplied and counterproductive. They dilute the protection that non-citizens enjoy under human rights law. Yet the Court continues to treat integration obligations, especially examinations, as self-evidently valid. It endorses the rationale as inherently positive, depoliticising and naturalising deeply normative questions about belonging, equality, hierarchy and oppression. The Court simply draws on axiomatic assumptions.

 

5.      Racialised and Colonial Logics of (Civic) Integration

 

Integration policies – and civic integration in particular – have long been subject to critique extending well beyond the legal domain, for being rooted in a colonial, oppressive and stigmatising rationale. Willem Schinkel highlights how it is never applied to white citizens, revealing its racialised function. Saskia Bonjour points to the paradox of civic integration policies that demand assimilation while reinforcing exclusion, echoing colonial ‘civilizing missions’. Tamar de Waal has described integration tests as symbolic hierarchies that reinforce precarious belonging. Adrian Favell observes that post-imperial states have used integration as a way to reframe their civilisational missions in a world marked by diversity. Dora Kostakopoulou has also criticised such policies as mechanisms of discipline and control – promoting a narrow, idealised national identity to which migrants must conform. These duties often construct belonging as conditional on civic and moral ‘worthiness’, marginalising those who do not fit the model. This trend is deeply concerning, not only normatively but also empirically, given the lack of any empirical evidence –so dear to the EU Commission in integration matters – demonstrating  that mandatory integration measures are effective in any way.

 

The content of integration tests further compounds these concerns. While the Court typically limits its scrutiny to language requirements, it has so far avoided addressing the societal knowledge components of civic integration exams, which constitute an important part of these requirements. Yet research has consistently shown that, beyond language testing, these tests are often filled with absurd, stigmatising or culturally loaded questions. Far from being neutral assessments, they are frequently imbued with racialised and colonial assumptions, functioning as instruments of symbolic exclusion and mechanisms of ‘othering’.

 

Moreover, the targets of these policies are not random. Integration obligations disproportionately affect migrants who are portrayed as ‘problematic’ – those regarded as non-Western, Muslim, socioeconomically disadvantaged, or with limited educational background, i.e. the so-called ‘Migrants with Poor Prospects’. Integration thus becomes a tool to discipline and stigmatise, rather than to support and empower.

 

In fact, rather than addressing structural inequalities through positive measures, many MSs have adopted punitive or conditional approaches through these civic integration programmes. This reflects a broader trend in which the rhetoric of integration has often served to legitimise an expanding array of exclusionary practices, including restrictions to fundamental rights. For instance, in the so-called Danish Ghetto case pending before the Court, urban gentrification of racialised neighbourhoods is presented as an integration strategy, generalising characteristics perceived as negative and unacceptable in Denmark and attributing them to all immigrants and their descendants from non-Western countries. Such highly questionable policies contribute therefore ‘to the perpetuation of that stereotyping and stigmatisation’ in the words of AG Ćapeta (§152).

 

Conclusion

 

While Keren curtails certain abusive practices, it simultaneously endorses the conditional logic of integration requirements for the beneficiaries of international protection, contributing to the broader normalisation of exclusionary and stigmatising measures. Civic integration requirements do not foster inclusion but rather reinforce hierarchies of belonging through symbolic and material harm. It is therefore imperative critically to examine the normative foundations of integration duties, particularly within legal reasoning, to prevent the entrenchment of exclusion under the rhetoric integration.